


Not Just Any Other Collateral

by Nanerich



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Collateral Damage, Depressed Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Irondad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Suicidal Thoughts, Whump, emotional breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 09:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20654972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanerich/pseuds/Nanerich
Summary: Peter is done with everything. His last patrol turned out disastrous and he just can't take it anymore. The way he messed up, Peter didn't deserve to be an Avenger anymore, he didn't deserve to be Spider-Man anymore. The world was better off without him screwing everything up.





	Not Just Any Other Collateral

It was already dark, when Peter climbed in through his bedroom window. Thankfully, May had to work late and wasn’t home, he couldn’t deal with a ‘it’s way past curfew-speech’ right now. And he really couldn’t face anybody. Not after what had happened, not after what he’d done.

He got out of his suit, tried to ignore the bloodstains, balled it together and shoved it deep into his closet, followed by everything even remotely Avengers-themed: his ironmanplushie, his lightning blanket, his cap’s shield pillow… everything found it’s way into the closet, far, far away from where he could see it. How could he keep all of that so close to himself when he screwed up so badly?

Last thing to disappear was a picture of Mr. Stark, having his arm around Peter, smiling proudly. How could he ever look at Peter like that again, how could he be proud of him? And how could Peter ever look into his eyes again?

Peter had dared to call himself an Avenger, a hero; a title, he no longer deserved.

He crawled into his bed, wrapped a blanket around himself, but he still felt cold. How did he get home? The events of the last two or so hours felt like a haze, like a fog, that slowly lifted, now that he was alone with his thoughts. Thoughts, that kept on whirring around his head, screaming loudly, and were somehow dangerously quiet at the same time.

It all revolved around that one picture, that man’s face, pulled into a grimace, overwhelming fear mixed with pain, but the eyes… Dark eyes, completely empty, emotionless, lifeless…

Peter buried himself deep under all the blankets and pillows he could find, praying for the clock to turn back. His eyes filled with tears and he couldn’t help but let it all out, break down, sobbing and bawling his eyes out, until exhaustion eventually took over, and he drifted off into uneasy sleep.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Hey, Tony, is Peter not coming over today?”

“Nope”, he answered Nat’s question between two sips of coffee.

“Hm… He hasn’t been here in a while. A little unusual, don’t you think?”

“Apparently, school is keeping him busy, exams and stuff.”

“When has that ever stopped him?”

Nat had a point. It was extremely unusual and out of character for Peter to stay away from the compound, the Avengers.

“Spider-Man hasn’t been seen either…”

“I know”, Tony sighed, “the kid doesn’t want to talk to me and I just can’t force him to open up or whatever…”

“What if you call him in for tomorrrow’s mission?”, Nat suggested after a few moments of silence. “He wouldn’t turn that down.”

“Worth a shot.”

.

**Tony: **Hey Pete, there’s a mission tomorrow. Cap located a Hydra base. We could really use your help

**Peter: **Sorry, Mr. Stark, but I can’t

**Tony: **How come?

**Peter: **School stuff…

**Tony: **Your education is important, but I can write you an excuse or something.

**Peter: **Nah, it’s alright, decathlon training for nationals, so…

**Tony: **Ok then. Good practice, you guys 😊

**.**

“Ok, scratch worried, I’m officially freaked out.” Tony put his phone down and looked over at Natasha. “Not a single emoji.”

“Check with his friends, maybe they know what’s up.”

.

**Tony: **Hello Ned, how are you?

**Ned: **Hi, Mr. Stark, sir, hello, thank you, I am doing well, and how are you doing? How is the mission going?

**Tony: **What mission?

**Ned: **The one with that weapon’s dealer? Peter told me all about the crazy missions you have at the moment. Wait, is it ok that I know about them? I really didn’t tell anyone, I promise!

**Tony: **Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. How much has Peter told you?

**Ned: **Not too much… Just that he can’t really do any extra-curriculars because of Avengers.

**Tony: **Right. Things are crazy at the moment, but he’ll be back on the AcaDeca-team soon, promise.

**Ned: **Thanks :D

.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“He lied to me, and Ned. He isn’t here because of school and he isn’t there because of Avengers.”

“Fuck.”

What was that kid involved in? What could he have possibly gotten himself into that was so big, he had to retire Spider-Man, all but drop out of school and lie to everyone?

“You have to talk to him.” Nat sounded adamant, leaving no room for arguments.

“What am I supposed to say? Pete, you lied, ‘fess up or you’re out the Avengers?”

“Maybe”, she shrugged.

“Tough love doesn’t work on Peter. As long as he doesn’t want to tell me, he won’t.”

“FRIDAY”, she ignored him, “can you locate Peter’s phone?”

“Of course. Would you like me to tell you the address?”

“Send the location to Tony’s suit, please.” She turned back to face him “That boy needs Ironman, whether he knows it or not. Go and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She was right, of course she was. Tony just wasn’t good at emotions and feelings and shit like that. Peter had a lot of those and was usually more than ready to share all of them. But now, Tony had to take the first step and that wasn’t exactly his area of expertise.

He found the kid on a rooftop, barely recognizable, in an oversized sweater, the hood pulled deep over his face. When Tony landed, he glinted up, before hiding his face again.

“Wow, you really are a hard working student”, Tony commented drily, as he sat down beside the boy, who stayed silent.

As softly as he could, Tony asked: “What happened?”

“Nothing”, came the mumbled response.

“Right, sure. You dropping out of everything, lying to me and Ned and everyone who cares about you… That’s totally nothing.”

The silence hung heavy between them, and Tony had no idea how to break it. Fortunately, he didn’t have to.

“I don’t think New York needs Spider-Man, when it already has all the Avengers.”

“Right”, Tony nodded, “that is the most ridiculous thing that ever came out of your mouth. And that’s saying something.”

“I just mess up. No one needs that. Not in the decathlon team, not in your lab and not out on the streets.”

“Peter, what happened?” When he stayed silent, Tony gently pulled the hood off Peter’s face. His eyes were ice cold, like when you cried so much, you’re just empty; his lips were pressed together in a thin line, bitemarks, where he had bit down on them. “ Oh, god, Peter, please, let me help you!”

“I don’t think you can. There are some messes even Ironman can’t fix.”

“Please.” Tony could only plead, beg for the truth.

“I let a really bad man get away, because I thought I could handle him myself. Now everything he’s doing, everything he did, that’s on me. If I just let the police handle it, or call you guys…” His voice faltered and he let his head hang low.

“Come now kid.” Tony put an arm around his shoulders, “that just happens sometimes, things don’t go perfectly. That doesn’t mean though that we should just give up, we need to keep on fighting, get back in the saddle. For example during an Avenger’s raid of a Hydra base…”

“That was subtle.” And that almost looked like a grin on Peter’s face.

“You know me, subtlety is not my style. Come on, kicking some Nazi ass...”

“Fine, I’ll be there.”

“Great! You’ll see, New York and the world, they need Spider-Man.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Damnit. What was he doing here? Peter was nothing but a liability. The only reason, he agreed to help out, was to shut Mr. Stark up.

Last night, he rummaged through his closet and got his suit out. The first time, in 22 days. Most of the dried blood had flaked off, but the rest was barely noticeable. What a matching metaphor, how the blood of the people he was supposed to protect just blended in so perfectly with his signature colours. Mr. Stark wouldn’t notice though, good. After all, he did not know what really happened, what Peter did.

And now he stood in the row of Avengers, and never felt so out of place between these heroes. Mr. America was currently briefing everybody, but all Peter heard was the voice in his head, screaming: ‘you don’t belong here!’ It was good that he already wore his mask, otherwise the others would have seen the tears filling his eyes.

“Avengers, assemble!” Cap’s yell brought him back to reality. He tried to shake off the anxiety and followed the ohers into what used to be a warehouse and immediately, all hell broke loose. Guns were fired, lightning went up, arrows flew past him. As quickly as he could, Peter jumped up on the gallery surrounding the hall, surveying the situation, until he felt someone coming up behind him.

Peter turned and froze. It was Shellborne, the villain he fought three weeks ago; the villain he couldn’t stop; the villain, who slit a man’s throat right in front of Peter.

“Hiya there, Spider-Man, long time, huh?”

Peter couldn’t answer. He was frozen to the spot, his entire body paralyzed. All the rumble underneath them seemed to wash away, until it was only him and Shellborne, and the same sharp sword he used to kill that man.

“You remember my blade? Of course, you do, after you saw her in action., how could you forget…” With a devilish smile, he slowly traced his finger along the blade, which was carved with what looked like thorny branches growing from the hilt. “What I remember of you is that adorable scream. And the fact that you can look scared even whilst wearing a mask.”

He got closer to Peter, who was glued to the spot. He wasn’t sure, if it was possible to be surrounded by just one person, but that was exactly what Peter felt.

“Cutting a jugular… Now that is a pretty, pretty mess.” While pacing around Peter, Shellborne placed his blade on Peter’s shoulder, almost against his neck. Even through the suit, Peter could feel the cold metal and it sent shivers down his spine.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that was probably the first time you’ve seen someone die like that. If it gives you any consolation, the death is almost instantaneously, so it was actually like a mercy killing, don’t you agree?”

He was trying to rile Peter up, tried to make him angry, he was very aware of that. It did not work. Peter felt like he did for most of the last weeks: defeated. How could he be angry, if it was his fault, that man got killed? How could he be sad, he didn’t deserve to grief him after being responsible for his death! And how could he feel sorry for himself, when it was all on him anyways?

“Now, wouldn’t it be poetic, if you died the same way?” Shellborne now stood right in front of him, locking eyes with Peter. He let the blade glide across Peter’s chest, watching the glinting light bounce off the silver.

“Come on, Spidey, give me something to work with here! Beg for your life, call me an asshole, some ‘I will be avenged!’, just give me something!”, the man pouted and exasperated, he threw a hand in the air. “Fine. You’d think, someone with a suit like that would have a bit more pizzazz…”, he shrugged and placed the blade against Peter’s throat.

Peter still couldn’t react. His mind was completely blank, he felt empty, hollow. He was a fraud, a wannabe, who didn’t deserve this suit, this title… Why would he deserve to be treated any differently than the people he failed to protect?

But before anything could happen, Shellborne was tackled from behind.

“Kid? Kid, are you with me?” Two strong hands grabbed his shoulders, gently shaking him to get him out off his trance. “Look up at me, kiddo, you’re safe now. Everything’s alright.”

Peter did not know how, but eventually they got back to the compound. His mind was still blank, he hadn’t gotten a single word out, and hadn’t dared to take off his mask. Somehow, hiding his face felt right, felt safe. So, he was all covered up, cowered in a corner, hoping for everyone to just leave him alone, so he could sneak out and leave the compound far behind. But he had no such luck.

“Peter, I know it was scary, but you’re safe now. You’re home.”

The compound, his home? Peter cringed at the notion, his stomach turning.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Mr. Stark put an arm around Peter and pulled him in.

“NO!” Peter jumped up and backed away from Mr. Stark.

“Peter, what’s wrong?” Mr. Stark got up, worry written all over his face.

“I don’t deserve this!”, Peter eventually yelled, all the rage of the last few weeks hitting him, the heat rising, tears filling his eyes. “I don’t deserve you worrying about me, I don’t deserve to call this place a home, I don’t deserve this.” He yanked the mask off his face and dropped it on the ground. Tears were streaming off his face and he tried to run off, but Mr. Stark was in the way, trying to hold him back.

“Peter, PETER, talk to me, kid! Let me help you!”

Peter weasled out of the hug, took a few steps back and dropped down on the ground, where he balled himself up, his head between his knees, making himself as small as he possibly could. He felt Mr. Stark’s look, probably full of concern, worry and whatnot; at least he kept his distance and wasn’t pushing any questions. Though he deserved answers, Peter owed him that much.

“Brian Jefferson.”

“Who?”

“Brian Jefferson”, Peter repeated, not looking up. “35 years old, married, two kids, five and two years old. Dead. Because of me.” Peter barely managed to choke out the sentence and it took all he had from breaking down completely.

He felt Mr. Stark sitting down next to him, still not touching Peter, still not speaking, but he was there. And somehow it comforted Peter enough, to continue his story. “I was fighting Shellborne. Suddenly, that man walks past, he grabbes him and holds his sword against his throat.”

“Oh god”, Tony mumbled.

“It was so much blood…”

Before he knew what happened, Tony grabbed him and pulled him close in a tight embrace. All the emotions, everything Peter had suppressed since then boiled over, he couldn’t help it anymore. He pressed his face against his mentor’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably, clawing into Tony’s shirt, holding on for dear life.

“It’s ok, I’m here. I’ve got you.” Mr. Stark’s voice was calm and soothing and he put a hand on Peter’s head, gently tousling the curls.

They sat like this for a long while, Mr. Stark holding Peter, who cried until he had no more tears left to cry. And even after he stopped bawling his eyes out, Mr. Stark still kept on whispering reassuringly into Peter’s ear.

“This is not your fault. You are not responsible for Brian’s death.” Tony’s voice was soft, but earnest, as he kept talking. “It’s not on you, kid!”

“But it is”, Peter sniffled, still pressed against his mentor. “Shellborne was fighting me, Brian was just an innocent man happening to walk past. It should have been…”

“Don’t you dare say me”, he was interrupted, “don’t you dare say that!”

Carefully, Peter leaned out of the embrace and looked up at Mr. Stark. Even though he sounded calm and collected, his eyes were wet and Peter could see, where the tears had rolled off his cheek, leaving traces in the face still dusty from the fight.

“Listen, kid.” He cupped Peter’s face. “I am so incredibly sorry about all that. I wish, I could take it all away from you or promise you that it’ll never happen again. But I can’t”, he sighed. “All I can tell you is that everybody in this building went through what you’re going through right now. And we still go through it all the damn time.” Before he continued talking, he pulled Peter back into a hug. “I know it’s hard to watch someone die so violently. And I imagine it is extra hard, because it probably reminds you of your uncle.”

Staying silent, Peter nodded. If he had any tears left in him, he would have started sobbing again.

“You just have to forgive yourself. Trust me, I know how hard that is. And I know it’s a slow process and a painful one. But that’s why you don’t have to go through it alone. We are all here for you. And there is nothing, absolutely nothing that can change that. So, if something happens, just come to me. Or Cap, or Nat, or anyone, really. Promise?”

Tony held his pinky out. And Peter even managed a weak smile, as he hooked his finger around Tony’s.

“Promise.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Are you Spider-Man?” The little girl that opened the front door, stared up at Peter with big eyes.

“I am”, Peter answered, as he knelt down in front of her. “I wanted to talk to your mum. Is she home?”

“MUMMY!”, she yelled excitedly, “SPIDER-MAN WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!”

“What?” A woman appeared in the doorway, a young child on her hips. Her face dropped, when she saw Peter standing there.

“Hello Mrs. Jefferson, I hope I’m not disturbing?”

“No, not at all. Would you like to come inside?” Perplexed, she held the door open. The boy on her arm giggled excitedly and the girl grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled him into the house.

“Can I offer you anything? A water, a coffee...”

“No, thank you, I really don’t want to impose. I’m here because of your husband.”

She tried to hold it together, but Peter could see the sadness creep into her every feature.

“Louisa, can you take Phillip upstairs?”

“Ok.” She let go of Peter’s hand and grabbed her little brother’s instead. “Can I show him my Avenger figures?”

“Later honey, alright?”

“I will come and you can show me all of them”, he assured the girl.

“Ok!”, she giggled and together with little Phillip, she ran off.

And now Peter was alone with Mrs. Jefferson. All the way to Long Island, he had rehearsed what he wanted to tell her, but now that they sat opposite each other…

“I am so terribly sorry for your loss. And I need to apologize”; he blurted out.

“Why?” She furrowed her brow. “As I take it from the news, you’re the reason Brian’s killer is in jail. Thank you for that.”

“No, no, I…” His voice broke off and Peter took a deep breath before he continued. “You’re husband… He died because I couldn’t safe him.” Peter didn’t dare look up at the woman. As she stayed silent, he continued the story. “I was fighting Shellborne after he robbed a museum. I was reckless, I thought I could take him on by myself… I managed to direct the fight away from a crowd, into an alleyway and I thought I had him cornered. Your husband came out of a sidedoor and before I could get him away, Shellborne had grabbed him, and…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence. His face was hot, his eyes filled with tears.

He pulled his mask off, Mrs. Jefferson deserved to look into his eyes. Looking up, he could see the tears running down her face. “I am so incredibly sorry.”

They sat in silence; only quiet sniffles could be heard. Peter braved himself for being yelled at, cursed at, punched , kicked out of the house… But nothing of the sort happened.

Instead she sighed a silent: “Thank you.”

“What?” Peter must have misunderstood her.

“Thank you”, she repeated a little louder, “for coming here, telling me this.”

“Uhm… Aren’t you mad?”, he carefully asked after a moment of silence.

“Of course”, she answered, her face hardening, “I am angry, livid, filled with hatred and hope that this Shellborne guy rots the remainder of his days in a jail cell!” After taking a deep breath, she continued. “But I can’t blame you. You didn’t put a blade… you didn’t kill him. You could have just moved on to some important Avenger business, but you came here to apologize.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“No, it’s not. So, thank you, Spider-Man, for the respect you’re showing my family, my husband; for not treating my Brian like just another collateral.”

Peter was absolutely tongue-tied. What just happened? “I would never… I don’t… I mean…”, he stammered before taking a deep breath and locking eyes with her. “I really have no idea what to say or do…”

“Well”, she chuckled, “I imagine my daughter pulled out all the Avenger’s merch we own and is waiting upstairs to show you. Maybe, for starters, you can drown in an overexcited five-year-old’s blabber.”

“Uhm, ok.”

“Follow me.” Mrs. Jefferson wiped the last tears off her face, got up and wearily, Peter followed her upstairs, pulling his mask back over his face. They were greeted by two wide grinning faces.

“Come here”, Louisa squealed.

Her mother nodded encouragingly and leaned against the doorframe, as Peter took one careful step after the other.

“Look, I have this T-shirt with you and that’s my action figures!”

Peter was immediately pulled down on the ground, and while she babbled on, Louisa drowned him in everything even remotely Avenger-related. Phillip climbed into his lap, smiling widely. “Hi Spi-Man!”

“He can’t say Spider-Man yet”, Louisa explained.

“That’s alright”, Peter chuckled, “it’s a difficult word.”

Damn, that girl almost had as much Avenger-merch as Peter did. With the difference that his was still buried deep in his closet…

Eventually, she dropped down right in front of him, a smile from ear to ear. “Who is your favourite Avenger?”

“That’s a good question. You know, I like them all so very much, but my favourite is Ironman. And yours? But you can’t say Spider-Man!”, he quickly added.

“Hm.” That was clearly her prepared answer. She scrunched her face together, pensive.

“How about Bruce Banner? He’s super smart. Or Black Widow? What about Thor?”, Peter tried to help.

“Nuh-uh”, she shook her head, “Thor is scary.”

“What?”

“Is loud”, Phillip explained.

“Oh, it’s the thunder? Yeah, that is scary. But, as somebody who knows Thor very well, I can promise you, that he is super nice. And when you hear the thunder, it means that he’s keeping us safe. The thunder is only for protection.”

“Really?” Her eyes went wide, it was almost comical as she tried to rearrange her worldview.

“Really.”

“Wow.”

The kids were lost in their new-found admiration and Mrs. Jefferson broke the pensive silence. “Spider-Man, would you like to join our tea-time?”

“I really don’t want to impose…”

What the fuck? Peter came here to apologize for getting her husband killed, for getting yelled at and worse; now they invited him to tea-time? This did not go as he expected.

“Please, can you stay?” Two pair of big puppy eyes stared up at him.

“Only if you don’t have important Avenger business to attend to.”

With a smile, Peter looked around the little family, finally locking eyes with Mrs. Jefferson. “You know, I don’t think there is anything more important than tea-time.”


End file.
